In The News: Damsel in Distress?

“"Prostitution degrades, among women, only the unfortunate ones to whose lot it falls, and even these not at all to the extent that is commonly believed. On the other hand, it degrades the character of the whole world of men.”" (Frederich Engels 1820-1895, from The Origin of the Family)

Amongst the many ridiculous items floating about the Detroit news scene is the maybe-soon-to-finally-end saga of Melvin ‘Butch’ Hollowell, a local attorney, Democratic political operative and one-time candidate for Michigan Secretary of State. He is a partner in one of the city’s most prestigious law firms and garners both popularity and respect from his political and professional peers. I’ve heard him speak on several occasions and feel that he is intelligent and compassionate in his political views. He got my vote.

This whole fiasco began a few months back, when Mr. Hollowell was arrested for (allegedly) soliciting a prostitute within walking distance of his posh Palmer Woods home, which he currently shares with his wife. For those unfamiliar with Detroit, Palmer Woods is the upscale neighborhood within the city limits and boasts many of Detroit’s elite as its denizens. The homes are enormous, well maintained, and along with extra patrols from the local precinct, there is a private security force that keeps watch on the subdivision. There is an exclusive golf course and tennis courts within its limits. Let’s put it this way. I couldn’t afford to live there, and if I did actually move in, my neighbors would move to have me evicted. I don’t fit in.

Palmer Woods hosts the beautiful Palmer Park, which, as many know, borders on one side the main thoroughfare of the city, known as Woodward Ave. Palmer Park, in spite of its lush greenery and wide jogging paths, provides an open workspace to a dazzling array of prostitutes; some female, some male, some white, some black, and others of various types that I dare not venture to guess their gender, ethnicity, or species. They come in all shapes and flavors, and are not shy about plying their trade either by day or at night. It is no secret that if one looking for quick sex along Woodward Ave., that Palmer Park is the place to cruise. This was the setting in which Mr. Hollowell was arrested some few months back, while stopping to speak with a white female (and alleged prostitute) near the park.

Don’t get me wrong. I have no problem with prostitution as a career choice. (I don’t think I could earn much at it, but that shouldn’t preclude others from trying.) In a world where we freely exchange goods or money for all kinds of services, I see no moral difference between money for sex and money for mowing the lawn. If a woman, man, or other are truly sovereign over their own person, then they should also have the right to sell the use of that person as they wish, be it for moving furniture, preparing tax returns, or oral sex. That does NOT mean, however, that I am blind to or ignore the negative consequences that generally accompany the sex trades wherever they are practiced. Before I would ever advocate legalizing the profession, the issues of health and community safety must be carefully addressed.

When I first read the story of Mr. Hollowell’s arrest I was rather shocked. Here was an educated, politically savvy, successful, and well-heeled professional black man caught up in something obviously staged or blown out of proportion due solely to his public notoriety. I was prepared to hustle myself up to Mr. Hollowell’s defense. This, in my initial estimation, was clearly another instance of entrapment by the sneaky, ever money-hungry local vice squad. That desire to rescue Mr. Hollowell from this heinous miscarriage of justice, however, lasted only as long as it took me to finish reading the second paragraph of the article, where Mr. Hollowell claims that he thought the woman (a white woman provocatively dressed at night in a predominantly black neighborhood already crawling with hookers) was in serious distress and he was just stopping to lend her the same sort of assistance that any good citizen would offer. Yeah right. I just about peed myself from laughing when I read that! The image of Mr. Hollowell using this excuse on Mrs. Hollowell came to mind, and I felt no more inclined to believe that line of bullshit than I imagined she would. C’mon. How many guys have tried THAT one before already? I was a more than a little disgusted, thinking that Mr. Hollowell is so naïve regarding others, as to assume that people don’t see through such an obviously lame and tired-out alibi.

Then I thought that maybe I was being too harsh on the poor fellow. Perhaps, even after all those years of driving by the dozens or hundreds of prostitutes that walked the open streets just a few short blocks from his home, he never really learned how to distinguish a real honest-to-goodness prostitute from an average woman in real distress. It is a possibility, and I therefore thought, perhaps for the benefit of Mr. Hollowell (to prevent his future attempts at random acts of kindness from backfiring), and for our own understanding, that I would provide some helpful information to assist one in making the necessary determination. My work takes me into all parts of the city and on my drive home (for entertainment purposes only, mind you) I often count the number of ‘working girls’ along Telegraph Rd. I know one when I see one. I thought Mr. Hollowell did, too.

Here are a few easy guidelines everyone needs to follow before stopping to assist a woman who appears to be in distress.

The woman in genuine distress will:

a. Not be smiling at everybody who drives past

b. Not be more than 6 blocks from her car (if she owns one)

c. Not usually be wearing thigh-high vinyl boots, a low cut top, and heavy makeup

d. Not greet you with “hey baby” or “what ya lookin’for?” or “what ya into?”

e. Not be standing in the same spot for 6 hours, five days in a row

f. Not be waving her arms AND her hips when flagging down passing motorists

g. Not instruct you to meet her around back in 10 minutes

The arrest of Mr. Hollowell was eventually rescinded as were the charges against him. It must be nice to have powerful political connections and money to speak on your behalf. I don’t know any of the details, however, but I suspect the county thought that it just wasn’t worth all the effort. A ‘John’ will seldom do serious jail time; the whole game is to seize the John’s vehicle and collect the $900.00 fee for the impound lot, and Mr. Hollowell has already paid that much and more. In any event, society, his friends, his employers, the police, and even the voters may give him a pass on this one, but Mrs. Hollowell may not be so gracious and forgiving. In either case, Mr. Hollowell and everyone else should now know how, thanks to those simple guidelines, to tell the difference between hookers and true damsels in distress.